
BOTTLE
— I only want to be like everyone else, I said.
— You’re not, though, was what he told me. You’re not like them.
— Why not? I said. I was inclined to listen to him. He had a persuasive manner.
— Because I love you.
— Is that all?
— I’m not just anyone, he said.
— Nobody is, I said.
— You see, he said, that’s what I mean, you’re not like everyone else. You notice the details, you take the distinguishing characteristics into account, you pick out the tendencies. These are the qualities I’m looking for.
— Is this a seduction? I said.
— No. The seduction took place a while ago; you didn’t even notice it. We’re past that. We’re at the hiring stage. We’ve come to the bargaining.
— What do I have to do? I said.
— Sleep with me, that goes without saying. I’ll make it worth your while.
— What else?
— I value loyalty. Remember, you’re not a lawyer: don’t fuck the clients.
— I wouldn’t anyway. They always have bad karma. What else?
— Just what you’re already doing, he said. Some routine chores. Inhale some smoke, chew selected plant materials, tell a couple of riddles, write things on leaves. Do the odd incantation; lead a few sightseeing tours of hell. Keep up the tone of the establishment.
— No fooling around with snakes? I can’t, if there’s snakes. I have a phobia.
— Snakes were last year.
— Good. Where do I sign? Just a minute—what do I get in return?
— Women are so mercenary.
